


Lest I Forget All My Sins

by Garlicky_Emotions



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bi!Steve, Bucky was kidnapped as a child, Consensual Underage Sex, Dom Steve Rogers, Dom/sub Undertones, Eventual Smut, M/M, Magic Exists, Marvel Cameos, Non-Serum Steve Rogers/Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes | Shrinkyclinks, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pierce brainwashes him, Pierce is a big bag of dicks, Prince!Steve, Steve still has his powers, Sub Bucky Barnes, plot is my favorite kind of cocaine, slave!Bucky
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-10-04 21:37:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10290617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Garlicky_Emotions/pseuds/Garlicky_Emotions
Summary: Steve already had one miracle in his life; Mage Erskine's serum. Though he was still small it made him strong and fast and able to weather all the great losses of his life. But it was when he received a gift from an unlikely source that he felt truly blessed.Exc:Those eyes, those lips, that jaw, that chin; it was all him, his best friend, his first love, what his heart had ached for most in the past decade.“Bucky?”The man's brow drew together, “Who the hell is Bucky?”





	1. A Gift

Steve stood at the foot of the dais. His reflection gleaming on the granite floor and bouncing off the polished swords and shields and vases around the great Throne room. The Throne itself was simple; the imported ironwood was gilded, the plush cushion was a deep blue with white stars handsewn to resemble the Royal Crest.

The longer he stood, the farther from the present he felt. His father's words arose from the back of his mind.

_“The throne is a chair, Steven, nothing more.” Joseph spoke with all the forbearance of a king and with the soft chiding of a parent. “The true power is from the people. Don't let the mages and clerics fill your head with nonsense; there is no divine right to rule. We may be in this castle because of our bloodline but we are Kings because of our fairness and our honor.”_

Steve finally felt the words spoken so many years ago come to bear down on his bony shoulders. He took the few steps to the top, and rested his hand on the arm of the throne. The wood was warm, as if his father was only gone for the moment, not forever.

He slowly sat, the Throne almost engulfing him. He looked upon himself, his skinny arms and legs, his too big hands, his pale skin. This could work to my advantage, he thought.

The sickly King-to-be looking so small and helpless in the ornate clothing fitted for his small stature. The rich red of his robes made his blue eyes seem deeper and bigger, sadder and more desperate. Exactly what he was to be at this time of grieving and condolences.

Steve didn't enjoy lying, he saw it as a last resort -the truth can only hurt those who are afraid of it. But for his own safety and those closest to him, he made the exception. After his childhood friend had disappeared without a trace from Steve's very own bed, the Royal Guard had made the rounds with rumors of a great illness besieging the Prince; the kingdom became distraught.

But that was of course the plan, make Steve safe by making him seem weak and ready to die at a moment's notice. No more than a trusted few knew about Steve's real condition, about the magic that ran through his veins.

Steve motioned for Sam to come to him.

“It's a really big day, man.” Sam -none too gently- applied the rouge to his cheeks. Another part of the deception, he was consumed with a fever.

When he stepped back, Steve's face felt heavy. “I know, Sam. But I just want this to be over, I want to be done with the coughing and sneezing and _god forbid the rouge_. It makes my face sticky and itchy.” As if on cue, a tell-tale tingle started on the apple of his cheek. He sighed and sagged into the chair as Sam draped the blanket around him.

“It'll be done soon enough,” Natasha said as she entered with a washcloth, “and then you can go back to your maps and books.” She patted Steve's forehead with the damp cloth.

Steve took it from her and held it in his hands, the cool water was rather calming. He looked to both his advisors, they stood confident and ready. “Alright, let them in.”

Maria opened the doors at the end of the Throne room and many, so god damn many, people came flooding inward. Steve's throat tightened for that brief moment, a surge of panic that felt greater than any he'd had in a long time. Then his heart settled as he saw his subjects slowly approach the dais.

They each had a gift and a word of condolence for him. He said thank you to each with coughs and wheezes thrown in every few. He took in each face and name and felt pride in his people for being so generous to someone they barely knew.

It wasn't until the Nobles, with their looks of disdain as they had to follow “the common rabble”, that his mind wandered.

Only a fortnight had gone by since he woke with the sound of bells ringing in his head. He felt his heart squeeze at the memory. He knew, even before Sam had come running into his room -his father was dead. He was now King Rogers.

Mage Banner had examined his father, no evidence of murder, only old age. Only a long fought battle against a broken heart.

He and his father had both been devastated by the death of Sarah, such a kind and quick witted woman taken too early from them. It took weeks upon months for them to smile again.

And now Steve had to bear the grief on his own. Even his subjects, who had adored their King and Queen, would never understand the true loss. Sam and Natasha were both very good friends and people but there was only one person that Steve wanted to hold in his weakest moments. But he was gone, just like his parents.

Steve had not realised how much time has escaped him until the doors were flung open with a thunderous wind. The room quieted and all the Royal Guard placed their hands on their swords.

“I am so sorry for being late, my damn apprentice woke me an entire hour later than I had told him!” A man in the grey robes of a court mage came into the room. He had with him what seemed to be an entire brigade of soldiers, each bearing the Hydra, King Rumlow’s Crest. In the center of the brigade was a tall, creaking wooden box on wheels.

The man gave a faint bow to Steve once he had reached the dais. “I am Alexander Pierce, your Majesty. My condolences to you for your loss.” The man gave no stop for Steve's reply. “But I have here a gift that will make all your days bright again.”

With a flick of his hand, the wooden box opened. A single hooded figure stepped out in little else but a loincloth and iron-bound wrists. It was a man of large degree, thick with muscle and nearly the same height as Thor. But what truly caught Steve eye was the burn marks all along the man's left arm and shoulder. They looked angry and painful.

“A gift fit for a Prince. He is strong and fast, and he is even fresh.”

The smile on Mage Pierce's face made Steve want to throw up. _Fresh_. A virgin.

“Perhaps a showing of quality?” Pierce snapped his fingers and the man turned toward the sound. “Show your King how fresh you are.” The man began to untie his loincloth.

“No.” Steve voice rang firmly. Every head turned to him. He made a show of coughing and giving a slight wheeze at the end. “That will not be necessary. I would not question your words, Mage Pierce, you are a great man. I have heard many stories of dragons falling before you.”

Pierce seemed appeased with this change of subject. “I cannot say they are all true but I have defeated a dragon or two in my day.”

“I am sure you are being modest.” Steve gave a big,dopey smile. “I also heard you were under training of Abraham Erskine. Have you heard anything of him as of late?”

On the surface, Pierce was calm, but Steve could see a fire rolling inside his eyes. “I have heard very little. Many say he sailed away to a new land, others say he is living with dragons.”

The dark meaning behind that line was not lost on Steve. But he hoped against hopes that Erskine was out there somewhere, not living with dragons- not dead.

Pierce lost interest in the conversation as it was and simply moved onto other entertainment. He pulled a key from his pocket and dangled it from it's chain length. “I am very excited for you to have this gift in all it's… glory, so I will leave post haste to give you all the time in the world.” A few quick hand gestures and the key was gone from his hand.

Steve felt the weight of the key and chain appear in his breast pocket. He removed it with gentle fingers.

The crowd of people, subjects and nobles alike, clapped and laughed in amazement. Steve put another grin on his face.

“Thank you. Thanks to you all, your generosity and support means the world to me. But I am still very weak and in need of rest. In six days, my coronation will be held in the Great Hall and hope you all to join in the celebration.” He ended with a rather vicious sounding cough and a lopsided smile.

The room was easily cleared, Pierce the last to leave, he gave a lingering smile to Steve and another barely-there bow.

Once Maria closed the doors he was wiping his face and standing. He gave the cloth to Pepper as she left the room.

He left the dais and approached the hooded man. The man's head cocked to the side- he was listening.

“Are you sure wanna trust that greasy old guy?” Sam was right next to Steve, waiting for any sign of distress.

“Sometimes, I think that you and Natasha forget that my stature belies my strength and agility.” He gave Sam a side glance of disapproval.

Sam huffed and took a step back to join Natasha behind Steve.

Steve examined what he could see of the man closer. The ends of long, dark strands poked out from under the hood, they looked greasy and uncombed. The man's body was sweat soaked, no doubt from the long trip inside the box. The sweat had matted his hair down onto his body, a light dusting of chest hair and a sparse treasure trail that lead down to thick thighs that Steve would kill to have. To ride, to lick.

 _No_ , he thought, _this is a person, not a thing. He has rights and an opinion_. Slavery was not outlawed in an entirety, but it was frowned upon more and more as the years go by. Steve was always pushing his father to make the change, to make slaves humans, not property but it was a political battle that never seemed to be won by either side. Steve was going to change that.

The man shifted, bringing Steve out of his head. “What is your name?” 

The man gave no response.

Gentling his voice Steve asked, “Do you know your name?” 

The man gave a slight vertical twitch of his head- no.

“Is it alright if I take off your cuffs?” 

This response took longer but this time it was a small nod- yes.

Steve took the key and slotted it into place, turning gently until the cuffs clicked apart. He removed them and gave them to Natasha.

He next moved his hands to the hood. He began lifting it.

The man's hands took hold of his wrists in a tight grip, his fingers almost touching his palm. He had rough hands, from labour Steve assumed.

The entire Royal Guard had their swords out and ready to hack off limbs. Steve told them to put their weapons away. They were very reluctant but followed their King’s command.

“Is it alright if I take off your hood? Steve barely whispered, he didn't want to scare the man further.

This was the longest pause. A true moment of deliberation before the man's hands released.

Slowly, as if it were a death veil, Steve removed the hood. He gasped and stepped back, saying in the sudden loss of air in the room.

The man's hands grabbed him and steadied him. Just like he would have when they were young.

Those eyes, those lips, that jaw, that chin; it was all him, his best friend, his first love, what his heart had ached for most in the past decade.

“ _Bucky?_ ”

The man's brow drew together, “Who the hell is Bucky?”


	2. Back To That Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Underage sexual stuff and things warning, they're both 15ish but just in case I kinda sectioned it off so just scroll on by if it bothers you.

The man's voice was deep and raspy, he was so grown up and it hit Steve like the ceiling had come down on him. He was a grown man now, Bucky was an adult while Steve had grown so little.

And then the guilt came like a hurricane in the East. It felt like he was drowning. He was awash with the memory of that night Bucky had vanished.

°~×~°

_Steve's hand made its way slowly down Bucky's stomach, feeling the results of puberty fast approaching. A light trail of hair leading to the treasure Steve sought; the muscles under smooth skin that had become larger and more prominent; Bucky being so warm and responsive. And he was Steve's._

_At the time, he had not read enough books to know what he truly wanted but there was never any doubt when it came to Bucky. He wanted to taste the sweat, feel the heat and the pumping of his heart, he wanted that absolutely divine look of pleasure to be permanently etched on Bucky's face. He wanted to be the only thing Bucky desired, needed; more than water or air._

__

_Bucky gasped as Steve's large hand closed around his growing erection. Only a few firm strokes and he already began to beg, Steve fucking loved it when he begged._

__

“ _God, Steve, please. P-please… come on, S-stevie, please!” Bucky lifted his hips from the bed, trying to get more friction_.

__

_Steve pinched the tender skin on the inside of his thigh, “You want to cum? Is that what you want, Buck? I can give it to you, but to comes at a price, you know that.”_

__

_Bucky whined, “Please Stevie! It's been days!”_

__

_It had been three days, fourteen hours, and about forty minutes since he had let Bucky cum. And he loved seeing that hungry look on Bucky's face when he brushed their hands together. He loved seeing Bucky squirm around on a chair because any kind of friction was the good kind of friction._

__

_Steve let go of Bucky's dick and climbed between the inviting spread of his thighs. He braced himself over Bucky, and leaned in close, “Take me out.”_

__

_Bucky shook as he followed the command, untying the cloth breeches. He was so needy and excited and Steve was not going to last very long._

__

Bucky took hold of Steve's dick and slowly began feather-light strokes. The smile he gave Steve was dark and dirty, challenging. He was being a tease and Steve would not have that.

__

_He took Bucky's hands and crossed them above his head, he could easily push out of the grip but they both knew he wouldn't. The moan Bucky released was thin and high. He was too enthralled with the feeling of being cared for, being taken apart to be put back together._

__

__

_Steve aligned them together, hot skin against hot skin and took them both in hand, hearing Bucky whine beautifully. He loved seeing them together like this. His size was only a few centimeters smaller than Bucky and he knew how much Bucky appreciated that._

__

__

_He began a fast pace, he was to drunk on Bucky's moans and whines, his own grunts driving Bucky's hips upward into his fist. “Say it, Buck, you know it's the only way I'll let you finish.”_

__

__

_They both panted as the edge of orgasm came closer at a high speed. “Steve, please let me cum!”_

__

__

_He clicked his tongue, “You know that's not what I want Bucky. Come on, just say it, stop being so difficult.” He twisted his hand around the heads of their dicks and Bucky gasped and began wriggling under the onslaught of pleasure._

__

__

_Bucky looked into Steve eyes as he breathed hard, “Kiss me?” He licked his lips and it became so inviting Steve almost gave in._

__

__

_He bit Bucky's chest instead, “You're being so bad, but if you say it, I'll give all the kisses you want.” He laved around a nipple and took it into his mouth, sucking harshly._

__

__

_“Oh fuck! Steve, fuck, I-I love you! I love you so much it hurts! Let me cum please!” Bucky was shaking, so close to release but he wouldn't until Steve said he could._

__

__

_“And I love you,” Steve gave Bucky a kiss, all heat and possessiveness. “Now cum.”_

__

__

_Bucky's body stilled for a brief moment, then it exploded into movement. His legs curled around Steve's back, hauling him closer, his head was thrown back and his eyes screwed shut and mouth open, and every piece of skin vibrated with energy as he came. Long and hot streams of cum made their way up to Bucky's chest and Steve greedily licked each one, savoring and taking what was his._

__

__

_Steve took his own dick in hand, watching the way Bucky sunk into the soft mattress, the trust and love in his eyes. He came hard and with a punched out sound. Bucky took his hand and licked it clean with soft kitten licks._

__

__

°~×~°

__

_It took long minutes for them to calm down. Steve went to speak but a cough barged from his throat. Then another, and another, he was having an attack. Of fucking course._

__

__

“ _Oh Stevie, come on, lay down. The medicine must have worn off.” Bucky guided him to lay on his side while he went to get some water._

__

__

_Steve took the goblet with a sigh of relief and drank deeply. “Thanks.”_

__

__

_“Anything for you,” Bucky rubbed his back and large circles, “My King.”_

__

__

“ _I could have you arrested for treason. There is only one King and I am certainly not him.”_

__

__

_Bucky laughed, “You would never have me arrested, who else would keep you out of trouble?” He kissed Steve gently. “And there may be only one King to the land, but I have only one King and that is you, milord.”_

__

__

“ _Mmm, it may take me a few more kisses to feel truly kingly.” He smiled his most charming smile but Bucky was immune and just rolled his eyes._

__

__

“ _One more kiss and then it's to sleep with the crowned prince.” He gave a soft peck of lips._

__

__

_Steve huffed, “I thought I was King?”_

__

__

_Bucky grinned and gave him many more kisses than one._

__

__

_It was hours later, well into the morning when Steve awoke. The bed was becoming cold, which never happened with Bucky right next to him. He rolled to find Bucky's warmth. Nothing, the bed was empty._

__

__

_He sat up and rubbed his eyes. Bucky wasn't around the room. But then his veins turned to ice as he saw the open door. It was glowing a deep red. Magic._

__

__

_He jumped from the bed and swung the door open, ignoring the searing pain that shot up his arm_. He had to find Bucky.

_He ran through the halls, down stairs, anywhere he could think someone could make a quick escape. But he was gone._

__

_The Royal Guard found him in the courtyard, on his knees and crying. They summoned his father and mother when he refused to move or speak._

__

__

_He threw himself into their arms, sobbing and screaming. The Guard finally understood and set about looking for the crowned Prince's best friend. But nothing came of it. There was no trace left but Steve's door which was soon disenchanted and then warded._

__

__

_He never again felt safe in his own home..._

 

Steve came out from his wanderings, only a few minutes had passed but Steve felt years older. Bucky was here, Bucky was grown, Bucky wasn't Bucky.

Bucky still had a hold of his arm, it was light in touch but heavy in weight. His hands were larger than Steve's now. Everything about him was larger now. Steve's knees felt weak when his eyes laid upon the burned left arm. He was the reason this happened, he could feel that in his bones.

He reached to touch the scars, but Bucky withdrew, releasing his support of Steve. “Do they hurt?” The question spilled out of Steve's mouth.

Bucky looked taken aback, and Steve knew that no one had ever asked him that. He looked as if he was going to speak but then tightened his jaw.

Steve felt a deep hatred for whoever did this to Bucky. He was so opinionated and free and it rankled Steve to see him act so obedient to someone else's orders. He was the only one who gave Bucky orders and they were orders of pleasure and love, he would never tell Bucky to not speak; he loved his voice to much.

He sighed deeply, this was going to be a long process. Whoever did this was going to pay. He'd start with first questioning Pierce, but that could wait till later. Right now, all that mattered was Bucky.

“Would you like a bath?” He asked quietly. It felt like the moment would shatter and this would all be a daydream.

Bucky looked suspicious but gave a quick nod.

Steve gestured to the hand maidens and they scurried away to draw the bath.

“Follow me.” He began to walk and Bucky followed, like ordered. It made Steve's heart squeeze. When they were younger, Bucky would have stood directly at Steve's side, no matter the order to follow. He always said it made him feel the closest to Steve.

But this wasn't Bucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the wonderful comments!!! I just about cried, you all are amazing!! I hope this can satisfy till I get the chance to update again. And I swear there will be plot and just steamy sexy things :)


	3. Questions And Silence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me so long to update, but I got rushed with homework and I finally have a day off from work! I hope this can assuage all the waiting! Thank you so much for reading!!!

Steve watched Bucky. Every motion brought memories to the surface, like pieces of a shipwreck taking their first breath.

His fingers undoing the loincloth brought back the first time Steve had ordered Bucky to disrobe, the way his eyes had gleamed with happiness and lust. The way his feet carried him to the edge of the bath made Steve's think of how he would kiss all the way up Bucky's legs before taking him into his mouth. The slide of his body into the still steaming bath water awoke the memory of Bucky bathing Steve when he was sick and weak with fever.

Steve had a sudden hunger and he hated himself for it. This is a broken and beaten man, he's hurt and scared. Steve should be trying to help him not fuck him.

Steve dismissed the maids, but not before ordering one to send the Guards for Pierce. The tone of his voice made her eyes wide and she nearly ran from the room.

He returned his gaze to Bucky who was sitting still and quiet in the hot water, head hanging down with his long hair in his face.

"Would you like help?" Steve approached slowly.

No answer.

"I know you're scared, I would be too. You're in a strange place and you don't know who's going to hurt you or for what. But I need you to at least answer my questions, just nod for yes, shake for no. Would that be easier?"

Nod.

Steve sighed in relief. "Would you like help?"

The nod was slight but enough permission for Steve to feel a surge of happiness. He knelt beside the tub and gently touched Bucky's arm, the burnt one.

Bucky didn't move this time, he was silent and stoney.

"Does it hurt?" 

Another slight nod.

Steve withdrew his hand like it had been slapped, "I'm sorry, I won't touch it again."

Bucky gave no answer this time.

It went on like that, Steve asking questions and receiving silence, his only affirmation in the form of nods or shakes. 

_Do you know who hurt you?_

_Shake._

_Do you want me to wash your hair?_

_Nod._

_Is it alright if I wash you?_

_Nod._

A simple give and take but it eased so much of Steve's mind.

Bucky stood when they had finished and Steve again took in the sight. But now that the skin was clean he could see the cases and burns laid all over Bucky's body.

"I'm sorry... That this has happened to you. I should have protected you, I should have noticed you were gone, I should have tried harder... I know you you don't remember me bu-" Steve was shocked into silence as Bucky's hand traced his lips.

His fingers were large and rough but so gentle Steve wanted to scream. They ran along his jaw, his neck, up to his eyes, cupping his face. He sucked in a sharp breath when his eyes met Bucky's.

He was confused but sad and angry. His face was flitting from one emotion to another and back, like a leaf on a wave. He looked lost and found and wandering. Then his face became like stone again and he stood, withdrawing his hands from Steve.

And Steve knew. Bucky had remembered something, but it hurt.

"I'm sorry." He whispered into the deafening silence.

Bucky made no move.

Steve stood and summoned the maids again. They entered and began taking charge. One stopped and bowed before Steve, "They have him in the Great Hall."

Steve nodded and dismissed her to her duties. He watched for just a second more and saw the tension rise in Bucky's shoulders. He left with the image of Bucky burned into his mind.

~>•<~

Steve sat in his place in the Great Hall at the Great Table. It was in the shape of a horseshoe, the center left empty for the entertainers. Now it only held a lone Mage.

"King Rogers. To what do I owe the pleasure of a private meeting?" A strange smile formed on Pierce's lips.

"The slave, where did you acquire him?" Steve did not put on a show for this meeting, he was here for answers and he was going to get them.

"Along the trade roads, somewhere in the East I believe, I'm too old to remember such things." Pierce laughed.

Steve did not fake a smile. "Was he... damaged before you bought him?"

"Yes he was, they said it was a horrible accident, something about cooking and falling into the fire." Pierce wrung his hands together, "I have been applying medication and pain remedies to ease his suffering but I fear it will never fully heal."

Steve's stomach lurched, "Would you stay?" It slipped from his lips before he could stop it.

Pierce even seemed surprised, "Why would I stay?"

"He is damaged, you gave a king a damaged gift. Stay and continue to repair him and I will pay you greatly. I will feed and clothe you in the time needed for the healing." Steve knew he sounded like a common beggar but this was Bucky, he would do anything for Bucky. Even share his castle with this slimy old man.

"Well I do have an apprentice taking care of Lord Rumlow in my stead... I could give you a fortnight and a few days before I must return to my Lord." Pierce approached the table and thrust his hand across the wood to Steve.

It was informal and frankly rude to assume the king would shake one's hand. Bucky this was for Bucky. Steve took Pierce's hand and gave a firm shake. "Heal him." He said firmly.

"I shall do everything in my power." Pierce smiled.

Steve had to remind himself as Pierce was escorted to his new chambers, this is for a good reason, the only reason that mattered anymore. _This is for Bucky._


	4. Memory

Steve returned to his books and maps for a few more hours. He examined the trade routes, the known slave sellers, and he dug into Mage Banners’ personal library for burn remedies. With Banner away on an excursion, Steve was not nearly as frightened of using the books. He was no physician but he was damn well going to try anything and everything.

His stomach had just began to announce itself when his study's door opened. He looked up to find Clint looking particularly frustrated. “What is it?”

Clint ran a hand through his hair and sighed, “He won't eat. Like he just fucking stands there and doesn't talk or move. I don't know who would refuse to eat, 'cause they have a ridiculous amount of food for him.

Steve felt his hunger rumblings vanish. _Bucky. _He abandoned his work and set into a fast walk, nearly a jog. Maids and a nurse and even the cook's apprentice we're huddled outside of Bucky's new chambers.__

__They all bowed and quickly scurried away at the look on the soon-to-be King's face. Three silver trays were left on a cart, each stacked with a variety of food. There was also a vial that Steve knew the color of too well. It was a salve for pain._ _

__The door to Bucky's room was open and Steve peered inside. It was just like every other room in the castle; opulent in its furnishings, utilitarian in its design. A large bed being the main focus, with stands on either side and a fireplace facing it with overstuffed chairs. It appeared empty. But with his enhanced hearing, Steve knew that Bucky was in fact behind the door. Almost too silent for even him to pick up._ _

__He looked back to Clint, “I’ve got this.” Clint raised his hands in defeat and strode off mumbling about not getting paid enough and crazy people who refuse to eat._ _

__Steve carefully maneuvered the cart up to the door. He calmly spoke, “It's Steve, the little, blonde guy from earlier. I'm going to come in with this cart. It has food and salve on it. I will stay or leave, whichever would make you more comfortable.” He pushed through the door slowly, no sudden movements._ _

__He didn't breath as he heard the door slowly close behind him. He didn't flinch when he heard it lock._ _

__When Bucky didn't move into the room but remained in position near the door, Steve forced himself to relax. He pushed the cart up to the bed and sat._ _

__He waited, focusing on the small flames in the fireplace but watching Bucky in his peripheral. He had dark breeches on, tight fitting and low on his hips with no shirt to cover him. Steve forced himself to pull his mind away from the imaginings that began to form._ _

__For lack of anything better to do, he began talking. At first, it was about the food. The meat he liked best, the cheese that had the sharpest flavor, and then he began to talk of the sweets that he used to steal from the kitchen. He was describing the delicious cookies, misshapen drops of oats and cocoa, and how they would fall apart in your mouth and they were only made on holidays-_ _

__“Chocolate drop cookies.”_ _

__Steve paused in his rambling. “I- uh, yeah. Chocolate drop cookies. Do you remember them?”_ _

__Bucky briefly met his gaze before turning away to look into the empty fireplace._ _

__“It's alright. You can speak. I won't ever punish you for speaking. You have a beautiful voice. I want to know what you're thinking, you can ask any question and I'll answer honestly.” Steve felt the words rush out but regretted them as he saw Bucky's shoulders tense, drawing up to nearly his ears. His face was covered by his long hair and Steve desperately wanted to know what he had said wrong._ _

__He mumbled an apology. He was doing this wrong, he came to get him to eat, that is the first priority. Steve picked up a piece of meat and began to eat. It was salty but we'll cooked._ _

__When he finished with that he took a piece of cheese. And then some bread. He slowly ate one of everything on the trays. When he finished the last bite, he noticed Bucky had lost his tense posture. He sat back on the bed and crossed his legs, making his own posture relaxed and open._ _

__It took a few minutes, but slowly Bucky became comfortable. After what Steve counted as ten minutes, Bucky made his way over to the bed and stood at it's foot. Another three and he sat, albeit stiffly, at the corner. Steve slowly reached to the trays and plucked a grape from its vine. He held it up to Bucky._ _

__Bucky stared for a moment before shifting his eyes to Steve's. The frigid detachment had vanished from his eyes and was now recognition. Bucky leaned forward and wrapped his lips around the grape and Steve's fingers and pulled it into his mouth. He made a small sound in the back of his throat as he chewed._ _

__Steve felt hot all over, his pulse jumping out of his skin. He remembered, Bucky remembered how Steve would give him bits of food. He only wondered…_ _

__Bucky took hold of a grape and held it up for Steve._ _

__He shouldn't get excited like this. Bucky was a slave not even eight hours ago. He shouldn't be wanting to put Bucky on his knees so he can pet him as he feeds him. He shouldn't be allowing himself to think about exploring this new body, about learning if it still has the same sensitive places._ _

__He takes the grape into his mouth. Bucky seems to be just the slightest bit proud of himself for figuring out how this works._ _

__They make their way through the three trays like that. Bucky becoming more open each piece he feeds Steve. When the last piece passes Bucky's lips, Steve speaks carefully, “Do you remember what I always said after eating? That if you eat everything I give you, you receive a reward. Remember?”_ _

__Bucky nods. His shoulders hunch and his face is hidden in his hair again. “Do you really think my voice is beautiful?” He whispered._ _

__Steve takes in a deep breath. So that was what had Bucky tense earlier. A simple compliment. But, Steve realises, probably the first he's heard in years. “Of course, Bucky. I think everything about you is beautiful.”_ _

__Bucky peeks up at Steve then, “Why do you call me that?”_ _

__“Bucky? Well it's your name. Uh- actually you're full name is James Buchanan Barnes. But you didn't want to be called James or Buchanan so we called you Bucky for short. Is that okay? Would you prefer something else?” Steve asks, not sure if he could ever call him anything other than the affectionate nickname from childhood._ _

__“No. I… like it. It makes me feel like… like I belong to you.” He hides his face again._ _

__“Buck, as long as you're here, you'll never belong to someone else; you're not a slave, you're not property. I don't own you. No one ever will again, I promise you.”_ _

__Bucky became tense yet again but in a different way. His shoulders sagging in defeat or relief, Steve was unsure, and his elbows coming to rest on his knees, hands shaking. “But… I thought…”_ _

__Steve reached to touch Bucky, a hand on the shoulder, something to comfort him._ _

__Bucky drew away, standing up from the bed. He went to stand in front of the fire, watching the flames grow and wither. “I remember, it's fractured and blurry and it hurts if I focus. I was yours… but it was okay- it was good. I- I don't know if it was real, was it?”_ _

__Steve chews his lip. He's doing this wrong again, he was supposed to just feed him, not make him question his own mind. This is a man who's been beaten and brok-... And that's just it, isn't it? Steve has been thinking of him as a broken Bucky when this is Bucky. He seems different, walks different, looks different, but this is Bucky now. Steve needs to treat him like he would Bucky, he's got to be honest._ _

__“It was real,” Steve rises from the bed and stands beside him. “You and I were… lovers. We were young but we knew what we wanted. I took care of you and you took care of me. We… loved each other.” Steve hopes it's not too much, he hopes it doesn't scare him away._ _

__Bucky looks to Steve and wages a war in his head. It's seems to come to a draw as Bucky says nothing on the matter._ _

__Steve gently closes his hand around Bucky's. It's so large now, rough and worn. “Would you let me put salve on your burn?”_ _

__Bucky hesitates, looking into Steve's eyes for something, maybe an ulterior motive. He doesn't find one. He nods._ _

__Steve leads him to sit down on the bed and takes the vial in hand. He pours some of the viscous liquid onto his hands, it's cold to the touch and numbs his skin slightly. He goes to apply the gel but Bucky stops him._ _

__“I- Could you- Maybe… Will you sit?” He stumbles out._ _

__Steve goes to sit on the bed but Bucky stops him again._ _

__“On… on my lap? Please?” Bucky isn't looking him in the eyes._ _

__Steve, careful of his gelled hands, maneuvers himself to straddle Bucky's lap. Like this, they are nearly the same height and Steve gently kisses the top Bucky's head. The small sound that comes from Bucky is worth more than anything in the treasury._ _

__Steve takes both hands and runs them down Bucky's arm, gentle and smooth in their motions. They both enjoy the closeness._ _

__For a second._ _

__And then a scream of blood-curdling effect is ripped from Bucky's chest. He thrashes and shoves Steve off as he screams and claws at his arm._ _

__Clint, having been just down the hall, busts the door open. Steve motions for him to help restrain Bucky from hurting himself. They struggle to pin him down, his movements wild and pained._ _

__“Bucky! Can you hear me? Please! Stop fighting us, we're trying to help!” Steve holds down the burned arm while Clint tries to control there's of him down._ _

__The arm is a vicious red, almost glowing, and stings to the touch. Something nags Steve about that but he's too busy trying to wipe the slave off of the burn._ _

__Maids have begun to flock to the door, one having the foresight to bring water. Steve takes it and begins to wash Bucky's arm. With the water on him, Bucky calms just slightly. He turns to Steve, “Stevie! It hurts!”_ _

__Steve knows he needs a mage. And there's only one here with experience with Bucky's injury. Dammit all. Steve turns to a maid, “Get me Pierce.”_ _

__He strokes Bucky's hair as he starts to calm, still crying and grimacing from pain. Ignoring everyone else in the room he speaks quietly to Bucky, “It'll be okay, Buck. I promise.”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm so late in posting! Got caught in a whirlwind of shit to do. Hope this tides you over

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing/posting fan-fiction so hopefully I didn't completely cock it up! Let me know what you think


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